13th District

Day One

Kael sat against the gnarled tree, feeling the ache in his side as the adrenaline began to fade. His thoughts drifted to Arya, to what she might be enduring in the maze, and the gnawing fear that twisted in his gut. He closed his eyes, trying to steady his breathing.

Then, without warning, a light flashed in front of him. A sharp, blinding hue split the air above him. Kael’s eyes snapped open, his hand instinctively reaching for the dagger at his side. The space around him shimmered, and suddenly, a holographic display materialized in the air.

The cold blue glow outlined the labyrinth’s dim landscape as a voice echoed from the sky, the same one from the announcement.

“The Ascension Trials. Day 1 complete. Of the 155 participants, 20 have been eliminated. Please review your current standing and condition.”

Kael’s stomach dropped. Twenty had already been eliminated? That number felt too high, too quick. He hadn’t seen it happen, but he could imagine—he had been barely hanging on himself.

His mind immediately snapped to Arya. He clenched his jaw and closed his eyes. She had to be okay. She had to be.

Kael blinked, still trying to process what was happening. He’d seen these holograms before in the capital, hovering above vendors’ stalls and inside training halls, but seeing one in the middle of the maze—well, it felt wrong. Foreign. His mind couldn’t quite catch up to the reality of it.

He could see his name, his district number, and basic stats.

Name: Kael Ryden

District: 7th

Condition: Moderate

Stamina: 68%

Mental Fortitude: 72%

It was all pretty basic. He had expected something like this. They wanted the competitors to be aware of their progress, their condition, to keep them moving forward.

Then, as Kael stared at the hologram, another one appeared beneath it—a personal stats display, projecting in front of him like an open page.

It was a simple breakdown of his performance so far:

Kills: 1

Injuries: 1 (Knife wound - moderate)

Combat Efficiency: 47%

Kael’s gaze froze on the first line.

Kills: 1.

The words felt like they hit him in the chest. He blinked rapidly, his pulse skipping for a moment. One kill? His hands began to tremble.

He stared at it, trying to comprehend the impossible. He hadn’t killed anyone. He had only fought, and he had barely managed to defend himself. His mind raced through the events of the fight with the man from District 3.

He remembered the way the man lunged at him, the way Kael had turned the tide, made him strike at the wall, then kicked his knee out. He’d fought hard, but he hadn’t killed him. There was no way.

Yet here it was—right in front of him.

Kael’s head snapped around, looking frantically for any sign of the man he’d fought. But the labyrinth’s stone corridors and eerie silence offered no answer. The memory of the man’s final moments replayed in his mind—the twist of the knife, the way he had fallen to the ground. It was all too sudden. Too strange.

He reached out toward the hologram, his fingers brushing against the glowing light. The numbers remained fixed. The word Kills lingered on the display.

“What the hell?” Kael muttered under his breath, his voice sharp with disbelief.

He couldn’t process it. He hadn’t killed anyone, had he? The blood, the struggle, it was all a blur now. Had the knife strike been fatal? Was there something more he didn’t remember, something he missed in the frenzy of the fight?

Kael’s stomach churned. He didn’t want to be part of the violence, didn’t want to take another life. But here it was, in black and white—one kill. And it was marked on him forever.

The weight of it settled in his chest, thick and suffocating.

“Please report any discrepancies in your data immediately.” The announcement echoed through the air, too calm, too cold.

Kael gritted his teeth. No one would believe him if he tried to report it. No one would listen to someone from District 7.

He glanced back at the personal stats, then down at his bloodstained clothes. The pieces were falling into place now, but the truth seemed impossible to accept. He was just supposed to protect Arya. That was his job.

Not kill.

His eyes flickered down to the Kills stat one last time, then he gripped his knife tightly. This wasn’t over yet. He couldn’t let this happen again. Not if it meant becoming something he wasn’t.

Before he could dwell on it further, the voice from the sky crackled again.

“The Trials will resume at dawn. Prepare yourselves.”

Kael stood up, ignoring the protest from his aching body. He had to keep moving. He couldn’t afford to let this new weight slow him down. He had to find Arya—had to make sure she was safe, because no matter what happened to him, he couldn’t lose her too.

And as the hologram flickered out of existence, Kael Ryden steeled himself for what lay ahead.

He leaned back against the tree, gripping the rough bark as the minutes stretched into eternity. The pain in his body was a constant reminder of how fragile their chances were. But he couldn’t afford to think about that right now. Not when Arya was out there.

Kael squeezed his eyes shut, focusing all his energy on the thought of her. He had promised to protect her, and he would keep that promise no matter what it took.

“Please, just be safe, Arya,” he muttered to himself, the words barely more than a whisper carried away by the wind.

For a long moment, the world seemed to hold its breath, the stillness only broken by the faint rustle of leaves and the distant sounds of other competitors. Kael’s mind wandered, but the gnawing worry for his sister stayed with him, a constant weight in his chest.

He knew he couldn’t rest for long. The Trials had just begun, and tomorrow would be another battle, another fight for survival. But for tonight, in this fleeting moment of calm, Kael allowed himself to hold onto that one hope—that Arya was still out there, fighting like him.

And if she was, he would make sure they both survived.